


Magdalene

by ncrterritory



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Ariana Kelley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kelley Family, Other, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, a lot of trigger warnings I think so please let me know if u need anything tagged, also Beadie is about 22 in this; the underage warning is from her accounting her life, csa tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncrterritory/pseuds/ncrterritory
Summary: The girl once dubbed as the Woman of the West is now living night to night, wishing for death and always bringing herself closer to it. One strange man with a purpose comes to purchase her services, leaving her afterwards with a lot to think about.





	Magdalene

2 hours, a dark hotel room on the outskirts of Freeside, 100 caps and 50 extra for anything crazy. Torn stockings and cheap skirts stained with days-old wine and spotted with cigarette burns. Dark eye makeup and red lipstick that streaked across her lips and skin with no intention of cleaning herself up.

The third man arrived around 11:30 PM, radiating confidence and austere that was only ever gained from hours of gambling. Fake confidence that usually left once he was done, capless and tired, leaving his nameless mistress in the hotel to rot. She took this man in, no smiles or greetings, just whispers of her deals or rules. “Anything you want,” she whispered into his ear, close enough to leave red on his earlobes and tingles down his spine. 

Half an hour passed and she was gone, off in her dream world, wishing she were dead and one step closer to it with every thrust she endured, no spark in her eyes and no moan from her lips. She laid there and waited patiently for her caps, 100 total, and perhaps 100 more if he stayed his reserved two hours. The heat drew the sweat from their bodies, and her dark makeup smeared down her cheeks and made her hair smooth with moisture. More things she had no intention of cleaning up.

45 minutes passed, and he finished, gripping her body and releasing into her soul. She closed her eyes as he rolled off of her, panting and hot, pulling the blanket over himself and leaving her bare. She stood up and looked at him, stoic and unforgiving, completely businesslike and not at all the fantasy he might’ve had.

“Are you done?” She asked, watching his face. The man shook his head and tapped the spot next to him on the bed, the springs bouncing at his touch. 

“Lay down. Relax.” He said, and as always, she complied. She laid down next to him and the two sat in silence. She was stiff and empty, laying there as she was told, and he looked at her with curiosity. 

“No need to be tense.” He said, laying a hand on her stomach in an effort to calm all the nerves in her body. “Tell me about yourself.”

She formed a knot with her eyebrows and looked at him, bouncing her head off the pillow underneath her to get a more comfortable look.

“Why?” She asked. “I’m just a whore.”

“You’re a person.” He said, looking at the ceiling. “We’re both people. We have names and families.” She winced at the word family, looking at the ceiling herself. “What’s your name?” He asked, pulling a box of cigarettes from his dress shirt pocket.

She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” She whispered. After a moment of silence, listening to the buzzing flies and sounds of more people in the surrounding rooms, she sighed. “Beadie.”

He looked at her and then back at the ceiling, taking out another cigarette from his little box and handing it to Beadie, lighting it when she was ready. “Feel like I’ve heard that name before.” He said quietly, not pushing it any further. “I’m Javier.”

After that, the two laid there, smoking their cigarettes and living in their room. Neither drifted into their own fantasy world, instead choosing to be hyper-aware of their surroundings, aware of being alive. This isn’t what Beadie was expecting when she took his call, and she felt that he must do this with all the girls he slept with, considering he was so natural about it. The air in the room felt empty and still, and after an hour some of the human noise from outside died down and allowed the crickets and lizards to make a new home in their ears. Javier cleared his throat and closed his eyes, getting himself situated.

“I’m going to kill myself, you know.” He said quietly. The statement didn’t even strike Beadie as odd. If anything, she expected it.

“Why?” She asked as she took a drag from her cigarette. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

“You know what I did before I came here? Gambled most of my money away. And before that? I killed a man. That man was my father.” She looked at him as he smoked, and stared for a while, thinking. “I’ve killed before him, of course. Helped slaughter children, innocent people, entire villages. I helped with that mess back in Nipton, you know. It’s not true what was said, that no one cried for their families. Mothers screamed as their babies were burned and their husbands tortured in front of them. Enough horror to make someone of my age want to die and end the memories.”

“Are you going to do it? Kill yourself?” He nodded.

“After this. Which is why I’m talking to you. One last grip to humanity before I clock out.” She looked back at the ceiling.

“I want to die.” She said. “I wish I could do what you’re doing. Instead I do this.” She gestured at the hotel room and sighed.

“Why do you want to die?” She looked at him and flashed a smile.

“What is there to live for? My family’s dead and it’s my fault— even killed one of them— and maybe one of them deserved it. Grew up with beatings from my father and perverted officers asking for ‘favors’ in exchange for pardons. Abandoned by everyone I knew and loved to end up here, fucking random guys and shooting up until I’m close to dying. Maybe I was always meant to die alone, covered in disgusting muck with a needle in my arm.”

He shook his head and looked at her. “You’re here because you’re a fighter.” He said. “I’ve heard the stories about you, Woman of the West. I know what you’re capable of. I was there when you killed Caesar and my comrades, I watched you check my body. Every person has their time of darkness.” He laughed. “I’m fifty-two, much too old for this world anymore. You have decades ahead of you.”

“Wish I didn’t.” She said. The silence came between them once again, and before they knew it it was two in the morning. No noise came from the rest of the building, and to Beadie she almost felt content. This conversation with this ghost was something she needed, even if only slightly. Javier stood up and pulled on his pants, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stamping it out. Beadie watched him from the bed as he did himself up, combing his hair back and buttoning his short up to its second button. He reached into the bag he brought with himself and pulled out a large bag of caps, setting it on the bed beneath Beadie’s feet. Confused, she sat herself up, staring at the bag.

“You only owe me 100.” 

He nodded and rolled up his sleeves. “There’s 1,000 in that bag. Get yourself out of here, Beadie.” And with that, he was gone, Beadie left staring at the bag in awe. 1,500 could buy her enough supplies to go back home, to get some closure, to get away from all this. Javier had to have been an angel, she thought, or some other fucked up thing that caused miracles. Maybe he was Death.

That morning, the supervisor told her some crazy fuckhead jumped from the roof the other night. Beadie acknowledged what she said, replying with something like “Mojave’s going to Hell”, and left that hotel forever.


End file.
